


In The Bed of The Enemy

by Applesandbannas747



Category: Fence (Comics)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-12
Updated: 2019-04-27
Packaged: 2020-01-12 10:19:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 17,991
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18444566
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Applesandbannas747/pseuds/Applesandbannas747
Summary: The Kings Row fencing team has too many members to fit into the hotel rooms booked for them on away matches, and Seiji has to deal with the resulting sleeping arrangements. He doesn't have to be happy about them, though.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I'm sobbing ok this was supposed to be a ONESHOT i promise....it just....didn't stay that way.... I considered posting it as one chapter and calling it a oneshot anyway but that'd be too dumb since it's like as long as one of my multi chapter fence fics so.....i just couldn't be that inconsistent, no matter how funny it would have been. Anyway, it was definitely written as a oneshot, so that's why you'll notice the chapters are more unbalanced in length than usual (not that I'm typically super consistent but oh boy). jfc i just cant believe im this bad at onshots this isn't even the first time ive done this shit
> 
> and uhhhhhh i don’t know /exactly/ how things work so i’m pulling it all out of my ass I hope it doesn’t ruin your suspension of disbelief. So if you wanna tell me that this isn't how fencing teams work, that's fair, but just know that im aware i have no clue what im doing
> 
> also this one is for my lovely Dani, who is a slut for bed share fics, and who had to promise me that if she ever does read this, she'll pretend to my face that she didn't. So if you're reading this babe, ily pls marry me and have a good time i guess

Seiji hadn’t spared much thought to the room before. When they’d checked in this morning, it hadn’t mattered. Bags had bee carelessly dropped wherever, except Seiji’s own which was notably missing from the jumble of stuff on the threshold, having been carefully placed inside the single bedroom. No time to unpack. They’d been ushered around by Coach Williams to do check in, drop off their blades for weapons check, and scout out the competition. Then, when they’d been turned loose, there’d been pre-competition jitters. Seiji had only reluctantly returned with the team to their hotel room on Harvard’s insistence that they should all be together. It was to build support or something, Seiji was sure. Unenthused as he was, Harvard was captain, and Seiji respected that. So he did as he was asked and stayed with the team. Even as they pulled out the couch-bed and piled on it to watch movies no one payed any mind to, too busy nervously chattering or mentally preparing for their first match of the season. An away match, no less. Seiji had stayed pointedly removed, opting to sit at the high counter rather than be in the thick of things. He didn’t do jitters, didn’t get nervous. All he got was bored, waiting impatiently for the clock to show it was time to fence.

Finally, the time had come to file back out of the room. To gear up. To fence.

Seiji hadn’t suffered a single hit. The caliber of fencing this early in the season was laughable.

It had been a good day for Kings Row. They’d brought victory and glory to their school, they’d said, celebrating, though Seiji had put a pin in their balloon by pointing out it was only their first step to any meaningful win. And, even then, high school rankings meant comparatively little in the world of competitive fencing. No one had wanted to hear it. Seiji had been dragged along to a team dinner, and then, finally, it was time to retire.

And now, here they all were, in their small room, tired but still brimming with excitement that Seiji suspected would keep them whispering into the small hours of the night, keeping  _him_  awake. But there was one glaring issue. A problem that had not been immediately apparent until now, as they all clamored for a place to sleep. No matter how you looked at it, there simply were not enough beds.

Seiji was chagrined to admit that, before this moment, he hadn’t realized this problem. He’d assumed, wrongly, that Kings Row would install them in a room with the proper ration of beds to students. But, as it was, there were three beds to five students. Two large beds tucked away in the narrow bedroom, one bed pulled out from the couch in front of the television. Aiden and Harvard didn’t seem surprised, but Seiji recognized his own discovery in Nicholas and Eugene’s faces.

“Aiden and I always share,” Harvard said as he relocated his and Aiden’s travel bags from the entryway to one of the king sized beds. “But since we’ve got an extra member this year, that still doesn’t leave enough beds. I’ll leave that to you guys to figure out.”

“I already called dibs on the pullout,” Eugene declared, and Seiji had to admit that he  _did_  remember that. It hadn’t meant anything to him at the time, since the pullout was not the place Seiji wanted to sleep, but that left them with one remaining bed. He glanced at Nicholas, saw Nicholas eyeing him right back.

“You can share with Eugene or take the floor,” Seiji told him briskly, not bothering to wait for Nicholas to react. It didn’t matter. Nicholas was the  _extra member_ , the one taking up space. He could deal with the consequences. Seiji made it to his bed before Nicholas’s mouth caught up to his brain. Well, maybe not  _caught up_ , since Nicholas never seemed to be thinking much of anything when he spoke. Then, in revision, Seiji made it to his bed before Nicholas had finished processing what was happening and decided to refute it.

“No way,” Nicholas said, lunging for the bed, “what makes you think  _you_  get the bed?”

“My bag’s by it,” Seiji pointed out curtly. Nicholas scanned the floor, seeing this was true.

“Not fair,” Nicholas decided. “I’m calling foul play.”

“You can’t call foul play just because you were too stupid to claim a bed when we came in.”

“You didn’t mean to  _claim_  it, you just happened to put your bag by it because you’re so anal about your stuff. Your bag’s closer to the door than the bed.”

“Closer to the bed than yours, which is still in the entryway. Why don’t you sleep there?”

“Aha! So you admit that it was unintentional, which means the bed’s up for grabs.”

“Intentions don’t matter, the facts are these: my bag is by  _my_  bed, I made a verbal vie for it first, and,” Seiji added, sitting on the bed he and Nicholas had both been hovering over, “I’ve already gotten settled.”

“He’s got you beat, Nick,” Eugene hooted. Nicholas ground his teeth, knowing he’d lost. Seiji pulled down the blankets and climbed in, getting well and truly settled. Nicholas watched him with clenched fists and angry eyes. Under the circumstances, Seiji couldn’t help but offer him a smug smile. In retrospect, that may have been a mistake. Resolve hardened Nicholas’s eyes.

“I’m sleeping in that bed,” Nicholas said, stubborn as a mule. “With or without you in it.”

“Don’t you dare.”

“Oh, I’m daring.” And he yanked the covers back before climbing into the bed too, gathering a pillow and punching it into what he somehow considered a comfortable configuration. Seiji was appalled by this behavior. He’d learned early not to put anything past Nicholas Cox. The boy was a menace and a mess. He couldn’t be predicted or anticipated. But Seiji had truly never expected Nicholas to crawl into bed with him.

“Now that that’s settled,” Aiden said with his lazy brand of amusement, “let’s turn off the lights and pretend we’ll go to sleep, hm?” Aiden, of course, wasn’t the one to turn off the lights. It was Harvard who flipped off the bedroom light, followed shortly by Eugene turning off the lights in the main room, though the low buzz of the TV stayed constant. Likely the motive for Eugene’s earlier ‘dibs’ on the pullout.

“If you’re intent on sharing a bed rather than sleeping on the floor,” Seiji started, unable to relax with Nicholas in such close proximity. He was a huge proprietor of personal space. “Why don’t you go sleep with Eugene?”

“No way, you can’t pawn me off that easily. You have no more right to this bed than I do.  _Plus,_  Eugene’s got terrible bed manners.”

“Hey!” Eugene’s indignant voice came from the adjoined room, but no one payed him and heed.

“So have you,” Seiji said, almost as indignant as Eugene. Seiji shared a room with Nicholas. He knew what terrible sleeping habits he had. Always tossing and turning, kicking off the blankets, migrating around the bed, and using his pillow as a glorified stuffed animal for hugging as often as he did an actual pillow. And, Seiji knew for a fact, it was not unheard of for Nicholas to drool. He had no desire to share a bed with such an ill mannered bedmate. Or with  _anyone_ , for that matter.

“Yeah,” Nicholas agreed, and Seiji could see his devilish grin in the dim light, “but  _I_  don’t have to share a bed with me, so it doesn’t bother me.”

“Well, it bothers  _me_ ,” Seiji snapped, and he made a decision of his own. He would  _not_  be sharing a bed with Nicholas Cox tonight.  _Any_  night.

“If it bothers you so much, you can sleep on the floor.”

“Oh, one of us is going on the floor,” Seiji growled, poising for the attack. “But it won’t be me.” Nicholas was caught off guard, furthering Seiji’s advantage. With a single, solid, well placed shove, Nicholas was tumbling out of the bed with a yelp. Unfortunetly, he took the blankets with him. Seiji leaned over to grab a corner of the blanket and yank it back on the bed, but Nicholas caught his wrist in an iron grip and tugged. Seiji was toppling off the bed, but, unlike Nicholas, he only allowed a small gasp of surprise as he fell, with satisfyingly force, on top of Nicholas. Nicholas let out an  _Oof!_ as Seiji’s elbow met his vulnerable stomach.  _Good._

“You dumbasses are both on the floor, congrats,” Aiden said from his perch on his own bed with Harvard, staring down at them from a propped elbow, amusement a little more honed than usual.

Seiji could feel the tension in Nicholas’s body, muscles readying to spring. He elbowed Nicholas swiftly in the gut, in the exact spot he’d hit moments before, and scrambled back onto the bed before Nicholas could recover. It wasn’t the most dignified ordeal, but he won, and that’s what mattered. But his triumph was short lived. Soon Nicholas was back on the bed and they were right back where they’d started. Only without a blanket. Unwilling to reach over Nicholas, both for the sake of personal space and to avoid another attack, Seiji glowered at Nicholas, as if that would help replace the lost blanket. He knew it wouldn’t. Knew he was being childish. Knew, also, that Nicholas was unlikely to pick up the blanket on his own because he never rightly used blankets in the first place. Seiji had two options—suck up his pride, or be cold.

“Nicholas,” Seiji ground out, “could you get the blanket.”

“Could I get the blanket  _what?”_  Nicholas was going to take this as far as he could. Seiji could have punched him.

_“Please,”_  Seiji did not enjoy being cold. Nicholas, thankfully, leaned down and retrieved the comforter, then tossed it over to Seiji. Resigned to his fate, Seiji got situated beneath the blanket, sinking down into his pillow, and prepared for the worst night of sleep he’d probably ever endure.

It got worse.

“I don’t trust you not to pull that bullshit again,” Nicholas accused him, and Seiji smirked again, gratified in Nicholas’s worry. “You’re pure evil, you could wait for me to fall asleep and then kick me off.”

_“If_  you fell off the bed, there’s no proving it would be due to anything more than your own clumsiness.”

“So you admit to plotting against me!” In truth, Seiji had no intentions of trying to dislodge Nicholas again. He’d learned his lesson and didn’t feel like wrestling on the floor all night instead of sleeping. But he wasn’t above needlessly antagonizing Nicholas. Another mistake, as it turned out.

“What are you— _doing?”_  Seiji couldn’t quite control his voice as Nicholas looped arms around him tightly, and then as a leg hooked up over his hip. The overall effect was their bodies pressed uncomfortably close together.

“This way,” Nicholas said, interlocking his hands together over Seiji’s chest, “you can’t push me off. I’m anchoring myself.”

“You—you—absolute brute! Let go of me—,” Seiji tried prying at Nicholas’s fingers, but to no avail. He could hear laughter and wasn’t sure who it came from; Nicholas, Harvard, Eugene, Aiden—they all seemed equally likely candidates, but he didn’t register which combination of them the laughter came from as he writhed in an effort to break free from Nicholas’s hold. It wasn’t working.

Incensed, he managed to turn around so he faced Nicholas. He planted his palms firmly against Nicholas’s chest and pushed, but Nicholas only smiled, like he was watching something particularly hilarious, his grip not sliding even an inch. Seiji was stronger than Nicholas was, by all means, but as much as he pushed against the other boy, he made no progress in freeing himself. Nicholas wouldn’t budge. With his arms locked around Seiji, his leverage was too strong for even Seiji to break.

“Alright you two, enough foreplay.” Harvard said from the other bed.

“I’m missing out on the fun!” Eugene called. “Obviously  _the real_  entertainment is in the bedroom!”

“Isn’t it always?” Aiden asked slyly, which reduced everyone to giggles. Everyone but Seiji. He tried, uselessly, to get Nicholas to let go. But as the laughter died down, so did Seiji’s struggle against Nicholas. The rooms fell quiet, save for the burble of the TV.

Nicholas yawned, wrapped his leg tighter around Seiji, and closed his eyes. Seiji waited for Nicholas’s grip to loosen in sleep. All he had to do was outlast Nicholas. Then he could get out of Nicholas’s arms. Then, possibly, he  _would_  kick Nicholas out of bed. But either Nicholas was taking a very long time to fall asleep, or he had an unnaturally strong grip, even in sleep.

It was quiet, peaceful, dark. Seiji was tired, and happy from their win today, if not for the current sleeping arrangements. He felt so warm, so wonderfully warm…And the weight of Nicholas’s heavy limbs pushed him down into the mattress, down into sleep…


	2. Chapter 2

“I think it’s cute,” a vaguely familiar voice drifted into Seiji’s awareness, but he dismissed it. He was tired, he was entitled to this one day of sleeping in. He wasn’t getting up, not yet. He was so comfortable. The bed was warm, the blanket pleasantly weighted. He burrowed deeper into the heavy warmth, found it a real and solid form. Muggy and contentedly sleepy as he was, he held tighter to this tangible warmth, felt it hold tighter to him, in turn.

He’d never been so unwilling to leave a bed. Never woken up so pleased. Never wanted to fall back asleep and into this comfort before. So he let himself. Half an hour more. He’d wake up in half an hour.

***

“We really need to wake them,” a deep, steady, sure voice sounded and Seiji reluctantly let it pull him from sleep. Harvard. “They’ll miss breakfast.”

“I don’t know, man, snuggling is almost better than food,” he knew this voice too. Eugene. “It’s like…food for the  _heart.”_

“Nick gets hangry,” Aiden’s airy voice added to the fray. “And Seiji can’t be improved by hunger, either. Remember,  _we’re_ the ones who get to enjoy a long bus ride back to school with them.”

They kept talking, but Seiji had stopped listening. He needed to wake up, as Harvard had said.  _Nick gets hangry…_ Nick…Nicholas.

_Oh god._

_Nicholas._

Seiji bolted up, all sleepiness forgotten completely. Three of his teammates stared at him with alarm at his sudden vigilance. Nicholas was less quick to raise, arms circled lazily around his waist. Seiji looked from Nicholas to the others, felt his cheeks begin to burn. This was all Nicholas’s fault. Stupid, slovenly Nicholas. Seiji felt the anger raising, felt it replace the humiliation, and he was glad for it. Nicholas, so peaceful in sleep, had let down his guard.

Seiji shoved him. Hard.

Nicholas tumbled again to the floor. That woke him up. Rubbing his head and swearing colorfully, he sat up, tangled in blanket and sheets, to glare forcefully at Seiji.

“You should think better of it,” Seiji told him snidely, “next time the impulse strikes you to slither into my bed.”

“I don’t know, Seiji,” Aiden interjected, “you didn’t seem to mind too much.”

“Was I talking to you?” Seiji asked coldly.

 _“Slither into your bed?”_  Nicholas was slack jawed, looking even more imbecilic than usual. “You make it sound like I had any desire to be with _you._  It was my bed just as much as it was yours, and you pushed me out! Twice! Maybe your bed manners are just as bad as Eugene’s.”

“Then you can bunk with him, next time.” Nicholas looked ready to fight, but Harvard held up a hand, calling attention to him, demanding peace in the room.

“You two, go get breakfast. No time to get dressed, just go. Eat, then come pack and change and do whatever else you have to do. We leave in an hour. Hurry.”

Feeling chastened, as he often did when Harvard caught him and Nicholas fighting, Seiji did as he was told, pausing only to slip on his shoes before going to the pitiful breakfast bar the hotel offered. He saw Nicholas slinking along behind him. Seiji ignored him all through breakfast, and well into the bus ride to Kings Row, too. He’d have ignored him the entire drive, if not for Aiden. He slid into the seat next to Seiji, smiling in a way Seiji knew meant trouble.

“What do you want?” Seiji asked, wanting Aiden to leave him alone as fast as possible. “There’s a whole bus for you to occupy, why would you choose to sit  _here?”_  As in,  _please leave_.

“To show you something good,” Aiden said, phone in hand. Seiji watched him unlock it wearily. “Here, isn’t this a cute picture?” Seiji grabbed for the phone, but Aiden was too fast, already dancing down the aisle and away. Seiji’s face, once more, scorched. He’d only seen it for a moment, but that had been more than enough. Suddenly boiling with frustration with nowhere to go, Seiji stood, intent on finding  _somewhere_  for it to go. The answer seemed obvious. Nicholas, up in the front of the bus, sleeping against the window. As if he hadn’t slept all night. Seiji stormed over to him and practically threw himself down on the seat next to Nicholas.

Jerking awake, Nicholas said, “Whaddya want?” A slurred and ineloquent version of Seiji’s own question to Aiden.

“Who do you think you are? What gives you the right? You’re an absolute disgrace, I don’t even have the proper vocabulary to describe your grossly inappropriate behavior last night.”

“You’re fine,” Nicholas turned back to the window, as if he planned to go back to sleep.

“Didn’t your mother teach you better than to touch people who  _don’t want to be touched?”_

“No,” Nicholas didn’t seem the least bit remorseful. “She didn’t teach me much of anything.”

“Then I’ll tell you now: you aren’t supposed to touch people who don’t like it.”

“You’re just making it into a big deal because you’re embarrassed you liked it so much,” Nicholas smirked. “Aiden showed me that picture too. You looked pretty happy to be  _touched_ , then.” Seiji would have to find a way to get into Aiden’s phone and delete that picture of them, tangled up together and looking peaceful and happy in sleep.

“You’re not to do it again, do you understand me?”

“Yeah, sure,” Nicholas waved him off, “loud and clear.”

“I’m serious.”

“What, you think I’ll  _crawl_  into your bed to snuggle? As if. Next time we have to share for an away match, I’ll keep my hands to myself.  _If_  you promise not to push me off the bed anymore.” Nicholas rubbed at his head gingerly, and Seiji realized that there was an ugly bruise on his temple, hidden against the window until now. Unthinking, Seiji grabbed Nicholas’s face, turned his head so as to get a better look at the damage. Damage  _he’d_  caused. “What was that about touching people without consent?” Nicholas cracked.

“We’ve got a deal, then,” Seiji told him, still scrutinizing the bruise. “You stop—hugging me, and I stop pushing you out of bed.” He felt the tiniest bit guilty for causing a wound on Nicholas when he’d gotten no injury in return. So, gently, he brushed fingers over the angry skin, already purpling into a nasty stain.

“Mmm,” Nicholas mumbled, leaning into the touch. Seiji froze. “Feels good. Your hand’s cold.” Seiji closed his eyes for a fraction of a second longer than a blink, composing himself. Yes, he had cold hands. They  _would_  feel good against the bruise. Uncertain that it was the right thing to do, he pressed his hand flat against it, fingers brushing into hair as a result. Nicholas seemed pleased by this, at least. Seiji frowned. Since when did it matter to him if Nicholas was pleased? But the question was short-lived as Nicholas brought his own hand to cover Seiji’s, pressing it harder against his temple. “Are they always this cold?”

“Yes,” Seiji answered simply. Nicholas considered for a moment, then a smile inched on to his face.

“You know, I’ve got a bruise on my stomach too,” Nicholas told him, and Seiji remembered elbowing him. He’d deserved that, Seiji decided.

“Would you like me to kiss it better?” Seiji asked with derision, and he’d have pulled his hand away from Nicholas’s head if it hadn’t been held there. Seiji wondered if that had been purposeful. Nicholas just laughed, then it petered out and he cocked his head, searching Seiji for—Seiji didn’t know. But his eyes  _were_  searching.

“Yeah, actually, I think I might like that.”

***

Seiji found it oddly difficult to fall asleep that night. He kept thinking of Nicholas. Of his large presence in the bed last night. He hadn’t liked it. There was no way he had  _liked_ Nicholas, in his bed—a bed, with him—holding him. He’d only liked the warmth. Liked the pressing weight on his body. Liked falling back asleep into that hazy oblivion.  _Nicholas,_  as a person, had had little to do with it. Nothing to do with it.

But then, why did he keep thinking of bruised skin beneath his fingers? Of Nicholas’s hand holding his down, keeping it in place? And that strange look, those strange words.  _Yeah, actually, I think I might like that._  What had he meant by that? Seiji wasn’t sure. Hadn’t known how to respond.  _Hadn’t_  responded. Had fled shortly thereafter, back to his seat in the middle of the bus, away from everyone else.

He heard Nicholas shift, somewhere behind the curtain. He wondered, for a brief moment, what position he was in now. Then banished the thought from his mind. Why would he care how Nicholas was situated? But as he shifted too, turning to face into the room, he wondered if Nicholas were possibly doing the same.

Finally, he felt himself fall into sleep.


	3. Chapter 3

Something had shifted, almost imperceptibly, since their away match. Between him and Nicholas. Seiji dismissed the change. Blamed it on exhaustion, on Harvard’s  _team bonding exercises_  actually working. It was natural, he supposed, for a relationship to change after such an intimate exchange. And yet, he couldn’t imagine this indescribable feeling existing for anyone  _besides_ Nicholas. Didn’t think that sharing a bed with Harvard, Aiden, or Eugene would make thoughts of them cloud around his mind so strangely.

In a way, it had always been there. This feeling in him that Nicholas evoked, unnamable and unknowable. It had manifested differently before. Nicholas was an oddity, someone that didn’t  _fit_  into Seiji’s idea of how things ought to be. Even as a fencer, he was baffling. So basically flawed in technique. And yet, he was…interesting to fence. Something about him, the very essence of his movements, the way he saw things, the way he attacked—it was captivating. Unable to be ignored or dismissed, try as Seiji might to do both. It had, since the start, ignited  _feelings_  in Seiji. Especially when coupled with Nicholas’s uniquely irritating personality. The way he switched between smoldering aggression and chipper sincerity was nothing short of astounding.

But now that lurking feeling had changed it’s shape slightly, and Seiji wasn’t sure what to do with it. Especially when he’d find Nicholas watching him time and again with searching eyes and a small frown. He wasn’t sure what  _that_  was about, but it already didn’t fit into the categories of Nicholas’s moods that Seiji had started to build. That look was outside anything Seiji had ever seen before, especially from Nicholas. It was pensive and cautious and curious. It was troubled and in desperate want of an answer.

Seiji hated it. Hated the shiver it pricked into his spine.

“Do you have something to say?” Seiji barked, catching Nicholas watching him for the umpteenth time that day. Nicholas shrugged, looked away. If he wanted to pick a fight, he should at least follow through so Seiji could blow off steam. But even as he considered a brawl, his eyes slid to Nicholas’s temple, to the spot from which a bruise had only recently faded. Nicholas caught his gaze and grinned.

Seiji looked away, feeling oddly exposed. There was no reason why he should feel that way. He fumed the rest of the night over it. Over this change that had snuck into his relationship with Nicholas.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remember how I said I wrote this as a oneshot? So the chapters are hella unbalanced because I didn't really structure it for chapters? Yeah, _this_ scene was what I was referring to. But because it's super fucking short, I'll give you a new chapter tomorrow to compensate.


	4. Chapter 4

“Same setup as last time?” Eugene asked, an hour into the bus ride. No one heard him. Harvard was sleeping peacefully, using Aiden as a pillow; Aiden was watching something on his phone, volume leaking out of his headphones, it was turned up so loud. Nicholas was on the phone, speaking low and fast. It sounded like an intense, serious conversation, especially given the stress that had seeped into Nicholas’s usually cheery expression. So, no one heard Eugene’s question. Except for Seiji. He understood what Eugene was asking at once and frowned.

“No,” he said, “I refuse to share a bed.”

“Maybe you won’t have to,” Eugene shrugged. “Might be enough beds this go-round, who knows? But if there’s not…do you want Nick or the couch?”

“Excuse me?”

“Aiden and Harvard share, which guarantees them a bed, right? Then there’s bound to be a couch, pull-out bed or not. That’s another solid place to sleep. Then there’s one, maybe two, beds left. If there’s two, then everyone who wants it gets their own space to sleep.”

“But if there’s only one, as last time, two more people have to share.”

“Yeah, so it’s a game of chance between you and me now, isn’t it?”

“We place bets on the outcome and choose according to which situation suits us best. If I choose couch, I’m free of Nicholas, but the couch may not even pull out into a proper bed.”

“And if I choose beds, I might get my own bed, or I might have to share with Nicky boy.”

“An interesting proposition.”

“So, what do you say? Nick or the couch?” Huge grin. “Which is worse?”

“And what do you think?”

“I’m offering you the advantage here, man. Choose which one you like, I’ll take what’s left.”

 _Nick or the couch?_  Which one would Seiji prefer, in worst-case scenario? There was more to be gained, betting on  _Nick_. If there were three beds, he would be entitled to one. Proper beds were more comfortable, more sanitary, had their own set of bedding. If he chose  _couch_  and there were three beds, he’d be stuck with a pull-out, or the couch itself while Eugene got the bed instead. That wasn’t appealing to Seiji. But…if he chose  _Nick_  and there were only two beds, it would be another night spent sharing bed space with Nicholas Cox. He remembered the way Nicholas had grabbed to him and held fast, impossible to escape from. He frowned. But they’d made their own deal last time, hadn’t they? Nicholas had promised not to touch him if he didn’t push him in return.

“Nicholas,” Seiji sighed, knowing that he’d take Nicholas clinging to him over sleeping on a couch that countless people had sat on. “I’ll take Nicholas.”

“Thought you’d pick him,” Eugene grinned and Seiji narrowed his eyes, suddenly remembering the picture Aiden had taken that morning when he’d woken up tangled in Nicholas’s limbs. “Works for me, I like the couch better. It’s where I get put on family vacations since I always push my siblings off the bed while I sleep. Gotta admire Nick’s determination to stay on the bed, though.”

“There’s nothing admirable about his cheap tricks,” Seiji said, and Eugene just shrugged.

“It’s funny though, you guys going at it. Anyway, we’ve got a deal? I get the couch, you get Nick?”

“Who’s getting me?” Nicholas asked, breaking into their conversation as he slid his phone into his back pocket. A terrible place to keep a phone, or anything of import, really.

“Seiji said he wants you.”

“Really?” Nicholas asked, amusement taking hold of his features, slowly chasing out the weariness and stress leftover from his call. “Seiji, I had no idea.”

“I forgot to tell you?” Seiji asked, voice and face as neutral as always. “How careless of me.”

Nicholas stared at him, wide-eyed, then burst into laughter. “I didn’t think you had a sense of humor,” Nicholas howled with glee. He seemed back to his usual self then, whatever that call had been about. It relieved Seiji to see him restored to this ridiculous and carefree attitude, and he may have smiled because of it. Only the tiniest, slightest bit.

He caught Eugene watching him with a curious, pondering look.

***

This room was smaller than the last, and in a motel rather than a hotel. It consisted of a single room, unless the bathroom was counted as well. Two beds, a couch in between them with a TV directly across from it.

“Looks like we both lose,” Eugene commented to Seiji when they first came into the room. Eugene had upended all the cushions of the couch to find nothing but the boxspring. Seiji arranged his own things by the furthest bed from the door, on the side closer to the wall.

“It would appear that way, yes,” Seiji agreed, watching with distaste as Nicholas flung his bag  _onto_  their bed before disappearing out the door again, after Aiden and Harvard, leaving Eugene and Seiji alone to reconcile with their loss. Still, Seiji was happier with this arrangement than he would have been if he’d gambled on the couch.

“Or, maybe,  _you_  didn’t lose at all,” Eugene slipped in slyly and Seiji cut eyes to him at once.

“I’m not sure how you’ve come to be under the impression that I somehow planned to share a bed with Nicholas because I have any desire at all to do so, but I assure you that you’re  _quite_  mistaken.”

“Sure, if that’s the story you’re sticking to,” Eugene said, flashing him a peace sign before vacating the room. Seiji glared after him. He was in no way pleased to have to share with Nicholas. Wasn’t looking forward to the presence of another body in his bed.

Looking forward to it or not, evening came and Seiji was looking at another night with Nicholas in his bed.

“We kicked ass!” Eugene said, for approximately the hundredth time as he hopped into his  _Power Rangers_  pajamas.

“We were sloppy,” Seiji said, finally correcting Eugene’s enthusiasm. “We won by an unacceptable margin.”

“Hey, look who’s finally part of the team! Saying  _we_  were sloppy, like you had anything to do with it,” Nicholas said it all with a light, teasing tone, but it surprised Seiji to find that his language  _had_  reflected that he saw them as a unit. As a team. He glanced a frown at Nicholas, who smiled back in such a way that Seiji was unsure if he  _knew_  how strange it was for Seiji to see himself as part of a group, or if he was just making a joke because he thought Seiji was above such things. He wasn’t. At least, not intentionally. It had just never happened before.

“Seiji’s right,” Harvard said, and Seiji felt vindicated at his captain’s agreement. “We can do better. We need to do better. But we did win,” Harvard said, turning on Seiji, “try to feel good about that, instead of picking apart every mistake. We’ll do  _that_  when we get back to school. Take a cue from Eugene and celebrate our win for the night.”

Seiji nodded, ignored Eugene sticking his tongue out at him from his spot on the couch, and turned away from him with the intention of getting into bed.

“Move,” Seiji said, finding Nicholas stretched across the bed.

“I thought you wanted me?”

“Not on that side of the bed,” Seiji said, snapping his fingers and pointing insistently at the half of the bed not currently occupied by Nicholas.

“What am I? A dog?” Nicholas snorted, ignoring him.

“That would be an insult to dogs,” and Seiji didn’t particularly care for dogs. But at least  _they_  were obedient. “Now get off. That’s my side.”

“Is not. I got here first.”

“Are you—you must have done that on purpose,” Seiji said, irritated. “My bag was  _intentionally_  put by the right side of the bed, and  _you_  threw yours onto the left side. You  _know_  that I wanted the right side. You’re just looking to pick a fight.”

“Am I?”

“Nick, give him the spot, will you?” Harvard asked, “I’d like to sleep tonight.”

Seiji smirked triumphantly down at Nicholas, but Nicholas didn’t seem to understand that Harvard siding with Seiji meant he’d lost. He ignored their captain, slouching deeper down Seiji’s spot.

“I  _always_  sleep on the right,” Seiji insisted. “I slept on the right side last time, you didn’t mind then.”

“What if I usually sleep on this side and I was just being nice last time? It’s only fair that we take turns.”

“No, I  _have_  to be on that side.”

“Why?”

“Because I said so. Move.”

Nicholas obviously had no intention to move. Seiji saw the stubborn set of his jaw, the amusement in his eyes. He was having fun and he wasn’t planning on backing down.

“Move or I’ll—,”

“No pushing, remember? Or I’ll spoon you.” Seiji flushed at the threat, in anger and embarrassment. The others laughed, spurring Seiji further into rage.

“Fine.” Seiji said, taking the flaming rage he felt and forcing it to ice, a cold marble of resolve instead of an explosion of hot fury. Nicholas grinned at him,  _winked_  at him. He thought he’d won. The lights turned off, sheets rustled as Harvard climbed into the bed with Aiden, and the TV came to life with low volume as Eugene found something suitable to fall asleep to. If Seiji were not already in a battle with Nicholas, he would have snapped at Eugene to turn off the TV. He didn’t sleep well with the noise and light in the same room as him. But he’d deal with it. Tonight, the prize was his side of the bed.

He looped around the bed, coming to his side and lifting the covers. He saw Nicholas’s body tense, ready for an attack. He seemed to  _want_  an attack. This whole stunt was an obvious ploy to provoke Seiji. But he wouldn’t rise to the bait. He carefully sat on the bed next to Nicholas— _too_   _close_ —then swung his legs up under the covers, and situated himself into a moderately comfortable position, only slightly precarious in relation to the edge. But he was on his side, as it should be.

“You’ll fall off,” Nicholas warned him, quiet and close to his ear.

“I won’t,” Seiji said, though, in truth, he wasn’t sure. If it were only himself that he had to worry about, he knew he could stay balanced here all night. But Nicholas…he  _did_  toss and turn an awful lot. It was possible he’d push Seiji off in sleep, as Eugene pushed his siblings. “If you’re concerned, though, you could  _move over,_ ” he suggested. Nicholas chuckled.

“Not a chance.”

They lay like that for a long time, so close together that the slightest shifting would bring them to touching, but still with a hair’s breadth of space between them. It was not comfortable, but Seiji could deal with it for the sake of winning. Seiji heard Eugene’s occasional snores, heard Harvard and Aiden’s breathing sync and settle into a steady rhythm of sleep. He couldn’t sleep. Knew Nicholas wasn’t asleep either, else he’d be moving more. As it was, he was as still as Seiji, which was not his way. Not in waking or in sleeping.

Seiji turned his head, just to see if Nicholas was feigning sleep, or maybe even trying to sleep, but found the other boy staring at him, unabashed and intent. Seiji felt an odd jolt, turning to find Nicholas staring back at him, so close that he could see every detail of his face as the TV’s flickering light danced over his cheekbone, his hair, his lips.  _We’re sharing the same pillow,_  Seiji suddenly realized. He looked away, quickly and obviously, unable to weather Nicholas’s gaze. But he could feel it now, as he had so often lately. That look. The weight of Nicholas’s eyes on him, Nicholas’s  _thoughts_  on him.

Nicholas moved the tiniest bit and the movement created a small spot of contact between their legs. Seiji didn’t move away. Couldn’t move away, or he’d fall. Nicholas didn’t move away either, probably wasn’t even aware of the small touch. Seiji felt his heart beating fast. Far too fast. He closed his eyes, steadied himself. Nicholas was trying to get him to attack, that much was obvious.  _Why_  Nicholas wanted it, Seiji wasn’t sure. But he knew better than to be baited into committing to an attack when his opponent so clearly wanted him to. He had to disrupt Nicholas, had to make him forget, for a moment, that they were in the middle of a battle of wills. Then he might shift away. Even an extra inch of space would be gladly received.

“I can’t sleep,” Seiji started, quiet and soft, voice hidden to everyone but Nicholas, lost in the sounds from the TV.

“No shit,” Nicholas responded. “You’re only half on the bed. Who can sleep with one asscheek off the mattress?”

“I wasn’t finished speaking,” Seiji hissed. “I can’t sleep unless I’m on my side of the bed.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know,” Seiji admitted. “But I can’t. I’m—particular about things.”

“I’ve noticed.”

“You have no problem sleeping anywhere,” Seiji pointed out, “it would be…appreciated if you’d move.”

“Appreciated? By who?”

“ _I’d_  appreciate it if you’d just roll over a little.”

“You’re the one who decided to sleep on the edge.”

“I just told you, I won’t be able to sleep if I’m on the other side.”

“That bad, huh?”

“Yes.”

Nicholas didn’t answer after that, and Seiji sighed. He hadn’t expected reason or decency to prevail, but he had to try. He turned again to look at Nicholas. But Nicholas wasn’t really looking at him anymore. His eyes were directed at him, sure, but they were unfocused, far off. Worried, or concerned, or troubled. It reminded Seiji of his face on the bus.

“Nicholas?” Seiji asked, and Nicholas startled back to attention. “Who were you on the phone with today?”

“What?” Nicholas stared at him with absolute shock, like he’d just proposed. It was a personal question, now that Seiji thought on it. He felt color creep up his face. He shouldn’t have asked.

“Never mind,” Seiji said, a little hurriedly, “you don’t have to answer—I just—,”

“My mom.” Nicholas cut him off, soft but firm. He said it easily, but the muscles in his shoulders bunched at the words, as if they were an effort to get out. There was a cool determination in his eyes. He’d decided to share this with Seiji, for whatever reason. And, though Seiji couldn’t understand why, it meant something. Seiji thought of what he knew about Nicholas’s mother. He thought he remembered Nicholas saying once that his mom wasn’t  _big on parent stuff_. And… _she didn’t teach me much of anything_ , Seiji remembered now, Nicholas saying as much on the bus ride to Kings Row after their first match of the season.

“What was it about?” Seiji asked, tentative, expecting Nicholas to retreat.

“Nothing, really.”

“Seemed more serious than  _nothing.”_

“You were watching?” Nicholas asked, regarding Seiji strangely.

“I—no, not really. I wasn’t _snooping_ ,” Seiji was quick to clarify. “I just noticed that you seemed…unlike yourself. When you were on the phone.”

“You noticed that?” His voice held a note of awe. “Do you even know what I’m like?”

“Don’t I?”

“I didn’t think you paid attention.”

“In general? Or to you?”

“The second one, for sure.” Nicholas laughed, maybe a little self-consciously.

“You were wrong, then.”

Nicholas stared at him again, long and hard. Seiji met his gaze this time, felt something shift even further in their relationship. Like a fissure in a boulder. Nicholas nodded, small as the shifting space between them, eyes set in resolve, but instead of looking fierce and determined, it had the strange effect of sweetening his face. “Bills and stuff,” he said. “That’s pretty much all we talk about. Money. Who was supposed to pay what when. It’s always…exhausting, I guess.”

Seiji nodded. This made sense. It didn’t surprise him to find that Nicholas had money problems. He was a scholarship student, and he had the pragmatic sense of someone aware of how much things cost. Seiji was aware that he didn’t have that same sense. Was pragmatic and practical by nature, not necessity. He and Nicholas ran on parallels in this sense. Seiji’s practicality was a step short of Nicholas’s; while he used all he owned and took care of it until it was no longer functional, he never had to wear his things down to the barest they could be, the way Nicholas did. Seiji discarded things once they’d passed peak functionality. He had the money for it. He had the money to discard his things the moment he’d finished with them, buy them anew the next day. It was something he hadn’t consciously thought of until rooming with Nicholas. Watching the way he did things, it had interested Seiji. Had made him see his privilege in a way he never had before.

“I’ve always had the best of everything,” Seiji said, still watching Nicholas’s searching eyes. “I used to think myself independent. I lived abroad for a year, with my coach. I was given my own living accommodations. It seemed a very…grown up thing to me. But I wonder, after meeting you, if I know anything of the world. I’ve never worried over bills. I don’t know anything about how to pay them. About how to live without everything I need given to me freely by my parents.” It was a confession he’d never truly acknowledged to himself, but admitting it to Nicholas seemed like the natural thing to do. He didn’t know why.

“Don’t be dramatic,” Nicholas said, and Seiji’s eye was caught by the movement of Nicholas’s hand emerging from the covers, was startled when he felt it brush at his temple, arranging his hair gently away from his eyes. “You work for plenty. You’re the best fencer I’ve ever seen,” Seiji wondered why Nicholas didn’t lord Jesse Coste’s win at nationals over him, but he made no reference to the fact that, technically—in rank, at least—Seiji was not the best fencer. “And you’ve got top grades. Your parents can’t give you that, your crazy obsessive work ethic or your skill.”

“No, but they  _do_  give me every opportunity in the fields I pursue,” Seiji said, but he felt a pleasant warmth start in his chest and spread up to his skin. “You must resent me for that.”

Nicholas’s eyes widened like it had never occurred to him that he ought to hate Seiji for his good fortune. Perhaps it hadn’t. “I don’t,” Nicholas said, hand still resting lightly at his forehead, as though forgotten there. “I’ve resented you for a lot of things, but never because of that.” His eyes darkened then, “Guess I’m a hypocrite since there  _is_  someone I hate for similar reasons. I’ll tell you about that, sometime.”

“Sometime?” Seiji inquired, but Nicholas only gave a short nod and no indication of when  _sometime_  might be. Seiji got the impression that his words were weightier than he’d let on, that this person, whoever they were, was something close and personal to Nicholas. Why he offered to share it with Seiji was beyond him, but he wanted to know. Knew that he wouldn’t know, not right now. Asked instead, “why am I different from them?”

“You just are.”

“In what ways?”

“In every way.”

“You’re terribly vague.” 

A grin. “You’ve always been different, since the moment I met you. But I’m not the only one who thinks so, am I? Every person you fence knows it.”

“I can’t tell from the way you say it. Is that a good thing or a bad thing?”

“Depends on my mood.”

“And what is your mood right now?”

“Good.”

“Good enough to move to the other side of the bed?” Seiji asked, more for show than anything. He didn’t expect Nicholas to move, and he wasn’t horribly uncomfortable in any case. At some point during their hushed conversation, Seiji had slid closer to Nicholas and was now comfortably situated on the bed, pressed up against the other boy. He didn’t know how the contact had escaped his notice.

“Nah,” Nicholas flashed him a devilish grin, “but I’d be happy to help you stay on.” Seiji felt movement in Nicholas’s body, lazy and slow, but sure with intent. What that movement would be was unclear, however. Seiji didn’t know if Nicholas was about to wrap his arms around him, unbidden, or withdraw from him and roll away.

“Fine,” Seiji said, and before Nicholas’s lethargic limbs had even moved, Seiji rolled to face him, looped an arm over his waist. Nicholas’s hand slid easily from his face to the back of his head, fingers wrapping into hair and drawing him close, pressing him into his shoulder. Seiji sighed and fell into Nicholas’s warmth, let himself be captured by his gravity. Nicholas wormed an arm under Seiji, a hand pressing solidly between his shoulder blades.

“Your arm will fall asleep,” Seiji warned him. Nicholas laughed, Seiji’s hold on him moved by the heaves of his forcibly silent laughs. Nicholas stopped suddenly, a tangible shiver running through his body.

“Your hand is cold,” Nicholas said, and Seiji realized that his hand had slipped onto bare skin when Nichola’s movement had disturbed both his shirt and Seiji’s hold on it. He hadn’t noticed. Couldn’t stop noticing now.

“Sorry,” Seiji said, unsure what else to say, adjusting his grip back onto Nicholas’s shirt.

“No,” Nicholas said, dissatisfied with Seiji’s retreat. “I like it.”

“You…like it?” Seiji repeated, bemused.

“Yeah, I like cold hands.”

“Why?”

“They feel nice.” Nicholas was an oddity, through and through. Seiji had never met anyone who didn’t flinch away from his icy touch. Save for his mother, but mothers didn’t count.

“Thank you for complimenting my poor circulation, it’s good to know someone finds it enjoyable.”

“Mmh,” Nicholas agreed, and Seiji could hear sleep claiming him. Could feel it trying to claim himself as well.

“You’re very warm,” Seiji said, already falling into dreams. “I really like it.”

“I really like  _you_ …”

And they were gone, lost to heavy and happy sleep.


	5. Chapter 5

Seiji woke slowly, knew it was early by the lack of morning light filtering through his eyelids. He blinked awake, squinted around the dark room for the cheap digital clock by the still blaring TV. 6 AM. They didn’t have to leave for hours yet. There was little point to waking fully now. Especially when falling back into bed was so enticing.  _Falling back into Nicholas,_  Seiji realized, a little belatedly. He might have. Fallen back into bed, into Nicholas, into sleep. Might have ignored the world along with all logic and common sense and implications. But his shifting had disturbed Nicholas, who snored loudly once before rolling away to face the couch, arms reaching for the pillow that had stayed untouched all night. Until now. It was for the best, Seiji reasoned with himself, displeased with the twinging of—of  _something_  stirring in him at Nicholas turning his back on him, his body moving fully away from all contact with Seiji. He flushed.

“If you’d just done that to begin with,” Seiji told the sleeping boy with a touch of anger, not quite low enough to be considered a whisper. But he didn’t finish the thought, not even to himself. If Nicholas had rolled to the other side of the bed when he’d asked, then what? Seiji would have slept, a safe distance between himself and Nicholas. He’d have had no problem falling asleep, would have had no reason to talk with Nicholas. Would have woken cold as he always did without his extra layers of blankets at Kings Row or home. More specifically, he would neither have woken nor fallen asleep with Nicholas wrapped around him. His blush deepened. How preposterous, that he was glad for the talking and, worse still, the  _snuggling_. It was Nicholas’s radiant warmth, Seiji decided. That had to be it. He liked how warm Nicholas was—

_I really like_ you…

Seiji jolted awake fully now, sat straight up in bed and stared down at Nicholas who was, for once, under the blankets. Seiji thought he remembered Nicholas saying those words as they drifted to sleep last night. But, then, it could have been a dream. A confused dream. And  _what_  exactly Nicholas might have meant by that, if indeed he had said it, Seiji wasn’t sure.

“Don’t be stupid,” Seiji muttered to himself, closing his eyes and forcibly slowing his racing heart; concentrated on paling his cheeks of their color. Nicholas hadn’t  _confessed_  to him last night, even if his memory was real and not constructed. Such words as  _I like you_  were normal among friends, were they not? Seiji opened his eyes, glanced again at Nicholas. It was a mad assumption, that Nicholas harbored any sort of feelings for him beyond friendship. No, not even that. They weren’t friends. Were they? 

Seiji slipped out of bed, silent and careful not to disrupt the mattress as he transferred his weight to the ground and left Nicholas alone on the bed. He needed air. Unthinking, he grabbed his jacket from where he’d hung it last night, then swiftly escaped the room, closing the door with care so it didn’t make so much as a  _thwump_  when it shut. Unsure where to go, he found a spot near the pool and perched there on a guard rail. It was crisp out, the sun had not yet risen. He unraveled the bundle in his hands, expecting it to be his jacket. It was not.

Seiji could have screamed his frustrations. The  _one_  time Nicholas hung up his shit instead of throwing it on the floor—and he didn’t even have the decency to find his own hook. With alarm, Seiji realized his key card was in the pocket of his jacket. He searched the large pouch pocket in Nicholas’s blue Kings Row hoodie and found it empty but for a stray gummy bear. He withdrew his hand with disgust at the sticky morsel he’d just touched. He was stuck outside, then, unless he pounded on the door to be let back in. He’d rather wait it out than wake everyone and have them asking questions. The problem with that plan was this: every boy in that motel room believed in sleeping in. It would be an hour, at least, until someone was up.

_You wanted air,_  he reminded himself. Yes, he’d wanted air. And it  _did_  feel good to be out of that small room, out of that bed. He felt like he could properly breath, and the cool morning air beat the heat from his cheeks, calming him down. But it was cold, too cold, and Seiji found himself burrowing into Nicholas’s jacket to escape the chill. It smelled like him and wrapped Seiji up in the sense of him. Of Nicholas. The morning’s air could not cool his cheeks this time.

_I really like_ you…

Seiji had immediately jumped to the conclusion that there was deeper meaning behind that simple sentence. Assumptions weren’t made without reason. He thought he knew the reason he’d assumed this thing of Nicholas. Wasn’t ready to admit it, not even to himself.

“You stole my hoodie,” Nicholas said, the railing creaking as his weight added to it. Seiji hadn’t heard him approach, which was saying something for his state of mind. Nicholas was loud.

“You put it on my hook.”

“So that makes it okay for you to steal it?”

“It’s no less than you deserve,” Seiji said, but he made to pull the hoodie off. Nicholas’s hand landed on his shoulder, preventing him from drawing it over his head.

“Keep it for now. You need it more than I do.”

“You’re in a tank top,” Seiji observed.

“I don’t have shit circulation,” Nicholas shrugged with an easy grin. Seiji turned away from it, but let the hoodie fall back into place gratefully. “Why are you out here, anyway?”

“To watch the sunrise,” Seiji said, and Nicholas seemed to take this at face value. For a moment, at least. Then he snorted.

“No way. You did  _not_  wake up at ass crack AM just to watch the sun come up. That’s not practical.”

“Then why did I get up so early?”

“Not sure. Did I push you off the bed?”

“No.”

“Yeah, didn’t think so. Would have heard you.”

“You sleep like the dead, you wouldn’t have woken up for something so trivial.”

“You sure about that?” Nicholas asked, and the way he said it drew Seiji’s eyes again. “I woke up because you left.”

“I doubt that.”

“Really, it’s the truth. I woke up when you weren’t there to hold anymore.”

“Oh?” Seiji’s eyes narrowed. “That’s strange, because you didn’t seem to notice the difference between me and a pillow not even forty minutes ago.”

“Jealous of a pillow?” Nicholas’s voice was heavy with a laugh not yet released. “Seiji, man, I’ve gotta say that’s pretty—,” Seiji couldn’t turn fast enough to hide the color from Nicholas. “Oh.”

“No,” Seiji snapped, face searing but rounding on Nicholas anyway, “not  _oh._  Don’t go making—you don’t know anything, don’t flatter yourself that I—,” he couldn’t say it.

Nicholas was smiling, watching him as he floundered. Seiji considered knocking him off the rail, letting him fall to the ground. Which, admittedly, wasn’t a far fall at all. Enough to cause some scrapes and bruises, though…

“If you push me,” Nicholas said, reading Seiji’s intentions but seeming unconcerned, “I get to hug you. The deal, remember?”

“As you spent the night  _hugging_  me, it’s only fair that I get to push you.”

“You started it, last night,” Nicholas said and Seiji hated that he couldn’t deny it. “Fine, push me,” Nicholas flung his arms wide, teetering dangerously. “but I’ll take you up on your offer for kisses this time.”

“When did I ever—?”  _Would you like me to kiss it better?_ He remembered asking it, meaning it to be a barb at Nicholas’s whining behavior. It hadn’t worked.  _Yeah, actually, I think I might like that._ As if Seiji would actually do such a thing.

“So, what do you say? I’d take a tumble for the promise of hugs and kisses.”

“You’re really asking for it, you know,” Seiji growled.

“Yeah, I know,” Nicholas shrugged, replacing a hand on the rail, sliding it down perilously close to Seiji’s hand. “Wish you’d noticed last night.”

“You  _knew_  you were on my side of the bed,” Seiji’s eyes flew wide open at this revelation. Perhaps more of a confirmation, really. But the point remained the same.

“Yep. You’ve got self control in heaps, don’t you? Ah well, I got what I wanted. Better, since  _you_  clung to  _me_.”

“I did  _not_. I was only anchoring myself so as not to fall off the bed.”

“Bullshit.” Nicholas was leaning in closer. “I was going to move for you, you fussy crackpot. I felt bad. I was gonna let you have your side of the bed so you could sleep.”

“I know,” Seiji said, a whisper.

“I know you know.” Nicholas said, quieter but more meaningful than a whisper. Nicholas leaned, Seiji stayed still. They were so close now, the tiniest breeze could knock them together. Seiji felt the prickling sensation of Nicholas’s curious, searching eyes focused on him. Felt also the heat of him.

“There you two are,” Harvard called, relief evident in his voice. Seiji and Nicholas jumped apart. Seiji dismounted the rail to stand at attention. “You can’t go wandering off like that, scared the shit out of me to wake up to your empty bed.  _And_  both your keycards in the room. Coach would have skinned me if I’d lost the team babies.”

“Did you think we were kidnapped?” Nicholas asked, laughing. “Someone snuck into our room, nabbed me and Seiji specifically and somehow snuck out with us without waking you?”

“You’re dumb enough to leave the room without your damn keys or phones, you might be dumb enough to take candy from a stranger or hitchhike with a pervert and  _really_  get kidnapped.” Harvard rebuked. Seiji burned red, wanted to defend himself, explain. But he  _had_  done just as Harvard had said, stupidly left his key and phone and wandered into the dark, early morning all alone without telling anyone. He wasn’t a child, but he wasn’t near so grown as he liked to think and his irresponsibility this morning only reflected that.

“It won’t happen again,” Seiji said stiffly.

“See that it doesn’t.” Harvard held Seiji’s eye, then nodded. “Let’s go, we can pack early and get a head start back to school.”

Seiji was already stepping forward to do as he’d been told when he jerked to a stop, a hand in the crook of his elbow, pulling him back.

“In a minute, Captain. We wanted to see the sunrise. If you don’t mind.” Nicholas said, good natured but insistent. Harvard considered Nicholas, then sighed.

“Fine. Take my key, in case we’re at breakfast and you need back in.”

“You’re the best,” Nicholas grinned, snatching the offered card and waving Harvard off.

“You want to watch the sunrise?” Seiji asked.

“Not really.”

“Then what was that about?”

“I don’t care about it, but you wanna watch it, don’t you?”

“I thought you said I wasn’t the type to wake up to watch the sunrise. Too impractical.”

“Oh yeah, definitely. But if you’re already up, I know you like to see it.”

“You  _know?”_

“I see you watch it out windows, when you can. If you don’t have better things to do with your time.”

Seiji glanced at Nicholas, who watched the sky with lazy interest, the first rays of sun casting both Nicholas and the sky in dazzling light. He seemed so normal, so casual, so unconcerned with everything but his current view. Seiji couldn’t match that disinterest, for once. He’d thought…he’d thought Nicholas was going to kiss him. He was bad at reading people, at reading moods and meanings and all the rest. Maybe he’d misread that, too.

He didn’t like feeling so hesitant, so unsure. Not at all. Didn’t like the way he couldn’t keep track of the tenuous connection between himself and Nicholas. So he did what he knew best when it came to Nicholas. He picked a fight.

“You meant to provoke me last night,” his voice, sharp and accusatory, was a contrast against the soft pinks and oranges of the morning sky.

“Yeah.” Nicholas shot him a look of mild confusion. “Thought we went over that already.” And he turned away again, in no mood to fight.

“And you keep  _staring_  at me lately, don’t deny it.”

“I’m not denying anything.”

“ _And_  you—,”  _almost kissed me? Said you liked me?_  No, Seiji couldn’t say those things, didn’t know if either were true in the way he kept assuming. “Never mind.” Nicholas obviously wasn’t going to give him a fight, so he settled in, wearily, against the railing to watch the sun come up, let its warmth wash over him and drive away the chill as best it could be expected to do.

“You look like a kid, with your hands up the sleeves like that,” Nicholas said, breaking the silence. Seiji glared.

“I  _would_  use the pocket, but who knows what’s been in there. I’d rather look like a child then have sticky hands like one.”

“What?” Nicholas asked, not understanding, then he laughed. “Oh! You found my snack, I was saving it for later.”

“Please tell me you weren’t actually planning to eat that old gummy bear.”

“I’d probably check it for lint, first.”

“You’re disgusting.”

“And you’re cold,” Nicholas grabbed Seiji’s hands, half covered by the cuffs of his jacket. “Give me those, I’ll help.” And, despite that Nicholas had been in the morning chill for almost as long as Seiji, and with considerably less clothing, he was like a furnace, and as he tucked Seiji’s hands against his cheeks and held them there, Seiji could feel them already starting to warm. They weren’t the only things, either. Seiji ducked his head, trying to escape Nicholas’s gaze. Trying again to hide his stupidly ruddy cheeks.

It was pathetic, really, that Seiji had developed feelings for the first boy that showed him this sort of attention. He could admit it now, if only to himself, that  _this_ —the heated feeling in his chest, the fast beating of his heart, the want for Nicholas’s arms around him at night—was the reason he’d jumped to conclusions. Why he kept reading into things that, more likely than not, weren’t there. He wanted Nicholas’s sleepy confession to be a  _confession_  and not a proclamation of grudging, unexpected friendship. Had wanted Nicholas to kiss him, before Harvard spoke behind them. A hot surge of shame shot up his spine. He shouldn’t take Nicholas’s kindnesses for what he wanted them to be. Shouldn’t like him at all. They hardly got along.

But Nicholas was different. He never shied away from Seiji, not with worship-like admiration  _or_  with resentment. Since the start, he hadn’t left Seiji alone. Was the novelty of his interactions with Nicholas really enough to make him like the boy? Apparently, yes.


	6. Chapter 6

Seiji was almost certain that Nicholas  _knew._  Which was an irritation in and of itself. Seiji wasn’t used to being known. Wasn’t used to people being able to read his emotions. Wasn’t used to having emotions  _strong enough_  to broadcast to others, besides contempt and anger. But Nicholas knew. Seiji might have attributed this to Nicholas being perceptive, if not for his own obvious behavior. He’d been jealous over a  _pillow,_  for heaven’s sake. Nicholas would have to be extremely stupid and oblivious to have missed it.

He didn’t do anything about it, though. In the week since they’d watched the sunrise together, Nicholas had continued in his usual ways. His  _new_  usual ways, in any case. He’d watch Seiji intently, as he had before. The only difference was, when Seiji caught him, he’d flash a knowing smile before turning away. Seiji detested this, but nor did he relish the idea of confronting Nicholas. Of admitting.  _Confessing._  It was too undignified. To chase someone, to beg for their attention and affection. He wouldn’t do it. He  _didn’t_  do it. He let them fall into their old habits instead.

“If you keep throwing your things over the curtain, you’ll break the line,” Seiji said dryly, coming into their room to find the curtain weighed down with a ridiculous amount of Nicholas’s clothing. Probably dirty and discarded, no less.

“Do we really need it, anyway?” Nicholas asked, sounding bored.

“Yes,” Seiji noticed that Nicholas did not so much as look up from his computer. Struck by a sudden bolt of irritation, Seiji hooked the over-encumbered cable with a finger, pulled it back taut and then let go. The resulting release of tension sent Nicholas’s clothes catapulting off the line and, with any luck, on to Nicholas himself. Though the curtain blocked Seiji’s view of knowing for sure where they landed, he  _could_  hear Nicholas’s protests.

“Hey! Not cool, man,” Nicholas was saying. Seiji wasn’t listening. “You’ve been a real bitch lately, what’s up with that?” Seiji couldn’t ignore the accusation. It was a wonder that he liked this boy. Both the slight against him and the infuriating reality that Seiji  _did_  like the one administering it made his anger flash hot and bright.

“There’s only so much of your nonsense that a single person can be expected to take, Nicholas,” Seiji said, fury dripping through the words though he tried to keep them as calm as possible. “If you want someone willing to tolerate your filth, you’d best talk with Coach Williams again. With any luck, she’d assign me a new roommate and you could—,” the curtain was ripped away. There one moment, gone the next, replaced with Nicholas, face angry and blotched with color.

“You want a new roommate?” He didn’t sound angry. Looking at his face again, perhaps  _angry_  wasn’t the right word, after all. Upset, possibly. Seiji frowned, a little startled by the contrast in action and voice.

“Obviously.”  _No._  But he wouldn’t say it. The furrow between Nicholas’s eyebrows deepened. Seiji wished he’d get angry, meet Seiji’s rage with his own. This restless energy was driving him to madness, he needed for it to  _go_  somewhere. But Nicholas didn’t shout.

“Why?”

“Why?” Seiji repeated, mocking. “You’re a terrible roommate, and I’m positive I’ve told you before so it shouldn’t come as a surprise to you. I’ve told you my complaints—on multiple occasions—and you never do anything to remedy your ways. It’s obnoxious. And now you’ve broken the curtain line.”

“Really? That’s the best you can come up with?” Nicholas laughed, just as mocking. Finally, his temper was rising. “Don’t think you’re fooling anyone, I know what you’re doing.”

“Oh? And what is it that I’m doing, exactly?”

“Running away. You think you can just pretend you don’t like me by being bitchy, but I’m not buying it. You’re only getting spikey because you’re embarrassed and too damn proud for your own good—,”

“I am  _not—,_ ”

“Yeah, whatever. Do you really think I haven’t noticed how you pick fights  _all the time_  since our match against Cheshire Academy?” Seiji went cold. Nicholas might have noticed, but Seiji  _hadn’t._  If he thought on it, though, he saw that Nicholas was right. Dozens of moments, of fights  _he’d_  incited over the last week flashed in his mind. An argument over a wet bathroom floor, one about a book that had strayed under the curtain, a moment at lunch when they’d almost collided on their paths in opposite directions. Again and again and again since Nicholas had left him under a bright morning sun, hands newly warmed and heart beating fast. He’d drawn away from Seiji slow, languid, with an easy smile and careless way about him.

 _“Come on,”_ he’d said,  _“we should go.”_  And he’d gone.

Seiji had stung from his withdrawal, had been sorely disappointed when he didn’t try to kiss him again—if he really  _had_ meant to kiss him in the first place. And after all his proud determination not to seek attention from Nicholas, he’d started fights over nothing just to  _get_  attention, hadn’t he?

“Yeah, I’m onto you,” Nicholas said. “You really are immature.”

“You—,” Seiji couldn’t fit his wrath and humiliation at the rebuke into words, so he cut off in a snarl. He’d admitted to his youth in confidence to Nicholas. To have the memory of that conversation used here against him felt like a betrayal. Made all the worse because Nicholas was  _right._  Seiji was fully acting like a child with his first crush, pulling on pigtails.

“But you’re gonna have to grow up, because you can’t get away with that shit. Not with me. You want something from me? Stop throwing bitchfits and  _tell_  me.”

Seiji narrowed his eyes to slits, curled his lips in contempt. He would not abide by Nicholas. Would not yield to him. Would not confess to him of anything, as Nicholas was commanding he do. He wasn’t used to losing. He wouldn’t lose in this, either.

“Fix the curtain,” Seiji said, then vacated the room.

***

True to his conviction, Seiji did not confess. He monitored his behavior, made sure to be coolly detached from Nicholas and everything to do with him. Though they had no fights at all, that  _something_  between them had morphed once again into something slightly different. There was an icy distance between them. Nicholas still stared, still searched, but instead of knowing smiles when caught, he only offered determined, stubborn, or otherwise baiting looks.  _Well,_ he seemed to challenge,  _what are you going to do about it?_

Nothing. Seiji would do nothing about it. But, once or twice, Seiji saw Nicholas looking before he noticed. He looked softly on Seiji then, with—perhaps—a hint of worry. But that gentleness always dissipated when looked head-on, and Seiji wondered if it had been there at all.

The new, or old but newly unburied, hostility between himself and Nicholas was evident to their teammates. Harvard tried to talk to him of it, but Seiji had politely but firmly shut him down. Much as he respected and even liked Harvard, his reach as captain did not extend to Seiji’s personal life. And he didn’t let his feelings interfere with his fencing, so it was of no concern to the team. It was likely due to this fact that Harvard didn’t pursue further, though the agitated state of Seiji’s and Nicholas’s relationship had not improved over the weeks.

It was the early morning before a full day of travel for their match against Watkinson High School tomorrow afternoon. Seiji had left Nicholas in their room, the fool only now packing, to get in some fencing before the confinement of the bus. As he walked down the hall, he saw light spilling under Eugene’s door. Coming to a decision, he stopped abruptly and knocked, brisk and sure, against the door. Eugene opened it hardly a moment later, with sleep-tousled hair and bare chest. He and Nicholas shared similar habits, Seiji thought briefly. They would have made more compatible roommates.

“I want the couch,” he said. “This time, I’ll take the couch. You can have Nicholas.”

“You sure?” Eugene asked, rubbing at bleary eyes.

“Yes.”

“Alright then.”

Seiji nodded, satisfied, and strode off to the gym.


	7. Chapter 7

“I’m wiped as fuck,” Aiden declared as he kicked open the door in a very dramatic way.

“You slept most of the way here,” Seiji pointed out.

“That’s time-passing sleep, I need  _beauty_  sleep. There’s a difference.”

“We’ve got an early morning tomorrow, so get to bed,” Harvard herded them all into the hotel.  _Early morning_  was a bit of an exaggeration. They were meant to wake at 7, which was not particularly early. But Seiji didn’t point  _this_  out.

This room was larger than the last, with two separate bedrooms, but Seiji didn’t follow the rest of the boys to examine them. He made straight for the couch. It was a pullout, at least. Eugene, with his disinterest in cleanliness in these matters, had always slept on the bed without linens. But Seiji would not be sleeping in other people’s filth. So he set down his bag gingerly, pulled out the bed, couch cushions piled neatly to the side, then went to the linen closet. To his relief, there was an extra set of sheets, and even a blanket. No pillows, but that was fine. Pillows were the least necessary part of a proper bed. And he  _wouldn’t_  be using one of the couch cushions.

While the others—Eugene and Aiden, it sounded like—fought over bedrooms, Seiji slipped unnoticed into the bathroom. He showered and changed, and was pleased to find a hair dryer in a drawer. He couldn’t justify bringing his own on all their trips, but being able to dry his hair into its proper style tonight would make it easier to deal with tomorrow. Seiji had learned on their first away match that Aiden took even longer in the bathroom than he did. To maximize his own bathroom time, he’d taken to preparing as much as possible before the morning.

“Didn’t think I’d live to see the day you slept on the couch,” Nicholas commented idly when Seiji came out.

“And yet, you’re  _still_  on my bed,” Seiji said, displeased to find Nicholas sitting on the edge of his bed with Eugene, old  _Star Trek_  reruns playing on the TV. “Off. The both of you, off,” he put his clothes from the day away in his bag before moving to shoo the boys off his bed.

“Aiden got the room with the TV,” Eugene groused.

“Are you surprised? He’s got seniority, he’s much more persistent than you are, and he’s got Harvard on his side.”

“You tell him, Seiji!” Aiden hooted from his room.

“But I like the noise of the TV,” Eugene persisted. “Just let me stay for a little?”

“And why are  _you_  here,” Seiji said, ignoring Eugene to round on Nicholas.

“I felt like watching some  _Star Trek.”_

“If you’d like, you’re both welcome to sleep here tonight. I’ll take the bed with no TV.”

“Heroic sacrifice, but fat chance,” Nicholas said, rising from the subpar mattress and disappearing into his room. “See you in the morning, I guess,” he said, giving Seiji a rather exasperated look. As if  _he_  had any reason to be exasperated.

“So…you guys, like, in a fight still?” Eugene asked as Seiji climbed into his bed, more or less unbothered by Eugene’s presence on it. He was sitting at the foot of the left side, out of the way. Seiji was aware that Eugene had spoken loudly enough for anyone to hear, if they were paying attention.

“No,” he said firmly, then tried to signal he was finished with the conversation by turning off the lamp and casting the room in darkness. Eugene didn’t take the hint. Not the full hint, at least. He crawled up the bed, collapsed on his side facing Seiji.

“Nuh-uh, I’m not buying it, bro,” Eugene said, this time in a whisper. “Why are you so pissed at him? You weren’t willing to take the couch before now no matter what.”

“It’s—,” stupid and childish. “None of your business.”

“Take pity on him, won’t you? Poor guy misses you.”

“He—?” A small swell of hopeful nerves. He snuffed them out. “There’s nothing  _to_  miss. We’ve never been close.”

“Except for when you’re spooning.”

“That only happened once, and entirely against my will.”

“Nuh-uh,” Eugene said again, white teeth gleaming in the dark as he grinned. “I saw you guys last time too. Nice try lying, but I’ve got a tiny bladder and always wake up to pee in the middle of the night.”

“I didn’t need to know that.”

“Yeah, but I told you it  _anyway_. That’s how you know we’re friends.”

“Friendship is marked by being told things you didn’t want to know?”

“Oh yeah. Do you want to hear about the time I—,”

“No, I don’t. I’m positive I don’t. Watch your show and then go to bed.”

“It’s a good story,” Eugene laughed, and he seemed poised to tell it.

“I’m going to put on my headphones,” Seiji said, reaching for his bag, in which his noise-canceling headphones were stored safely. Eugene grabbed his reaching arm, yanked it back.

“No way! We’re friends and friends listen!”

“I don’t remember signing up to be  _friends,_ ” Seiji protested, trying to tug away from Eugene, but the boy was  _strong._  “Get off, I don’t want to hear about whatever it is you’re so determined to tell me.”

“Never!” Eugene was laughing. Seiji elbowed him, making his grip loosen enough for him to get out of it, to move again for his headphones. But Eugene full-on tackled him this time and, with vigorous creaking from the bed, Seiji found himself in a wrestling match. Seiji had never engaged in such an activity before—unless his tussle with Nicholas on the floor weeks ago counted—it was undignified and beneath him, but it was either fight back or let Eugene win.

Eugene won anyway. He was stronger than Seiji, though it irritated Seiji greatly to admit it. Eugene landed squarely over him, laughing loudly, pinning him to the bed.

“Now, if you were a sibling, this is where I’d give you a wet willy, or maybe fart on you.”

“I’m delighted that I am not related to you,” Seiji said, gasping for breath.

“I’m a great brother!”

“Of course you are,” and Seiji had the urge to laugh. He did. It was late and this was ridiculous. Eugene smiled in triumph.

“See? Friends.”

“I regret whatever I did to welcome this,” Seiji said, but probably didn’t mean it.

“Alright you two,” Harvard’s voice boomed. “It’s getting late, save the hanky panky for later.”

“C’mon, Captain,  _hanky panky?_  What are you, an old man?” Eugene asked, but rolled off of Seiji.

“An old man who’ll beat you with his cane if you young whippersnappers don’t get to bed.”

“Fine, fine, we’re sleeping,” Eugene assured him, though instead of going to sleep in his proper bed, Eugene flipped to his stomach facing the TV, grabbed a cushion and, in the process, sent Seiji’s neat pile tumbling to the floor. Situated with it under his chin, Eugene clicked through channels until he found one worth watching. Seiji sighed. He supposed that he would not be getting his bed to himself just yet.

As he rolled over, trying to get comfortable for sleep, he thought of Eugene. Here he was, in an eerily familiar position with him—very much like one he’d been in with Nicholas weeks ago. But he’d felt none of the things with Eugene above him as he thought he’d have felt if it’d been Nicholas pinning him down. And, thinking further on it, Eugene had never treated him particularly differently like most people did. A lot like Nicholas. So why had it been Nicholas that’d caught his interest? Perhaps  _attention_  was only a convenient excuse. Perhaps there was more to his feelings than that. Perhaps he just liked Nicholas, and was doomed to have liked him no matter what…

He couldn’t sleep. The TV babbled on, and after what Seiji approximated to be three episodes of Eugene’s show, he heard gentle snoring. Seiji would not be getting his own bed tonight at all. So who would he rather share with? Eugene or Nicholas? The answer seemed obvious.

Careful not to make a sound, Seiji stole away from the couch bed and padded to the room Nicholas had disappeared into over an hour before. The door was open, and Nicholas’s figure was obvious in the moonlight shining through the window. Seiji’s heart thundered so loudly he was sure it would wake everyone up. Quietly, he shut the door behind him. Its only sound was the soft  _click_  as it closed. He steeled himself, took a deep breath, then stepped away from the door, over to the bed.

"Move," Seiji said, unsure whether his request would be heard  _or_  listened to. Nicholas moved.

"Seiji?" Nicholas was surprised, that much was obvious, but weary too. He gave Seiji all the space he needed and more, residing now on the leftmost edge of the bed. Seiji slid deftly under the blankets and reveled in the warmth Nicholas's body had left behind in this pocket.

"I've decided," he said with resolve.

"What have you decided?" Nicholas asked. Seiji swallowed his pride.

"I've finished throwing my tantrum."

“You—are you admitting it then?” Nicholas asked, amazed.

“Admitting what? That I’ve been throwing a tantrum? Obviously I’m admitting to it, as I just said I’ve finished with it now.”

“I guess,” he seemed closed off now, surprise having worn away. Seiji didn’t know why. Didn’t know how to fix it, either. All he could do was say what he’d come here to say.

"As you know, I like you," Seiji said it as evenly as he could, like he was simply stating a fact. Nicholas snorted. "And, as you've likely noticed, I'm no good with people. I can't read them. I—can't read you. I thought you might like me and when I was proven wrong I reacted—poorly. Childishly. I apologize.”

“You really think I don’t like you?”

“I don’t know,” Seiji scowled. “I’ve just told you I don’t  _get_  this. People. You.”

“You get Eugene, though.”

“What?” Seiji hadn’t expected Eugene to be in this conversation in any way.

“We all heard you guys tossing around and giggling like middle schoolers.”

“Oh? And you think Eugene and I were engaging in  _hanky panky?_ ” Seiji asked.

“You took the couch.”

“Yes,” Seiji said with exasperation. “I took the couch because I was avoiding you. And I’ve already admitted that this was an immature thing to do. It’s hardly my fault that Eugene ignored our agreement and took the couch  _too._  Not my fault he wrestles with anything that moves, either.”

“Yeah, he  _does_  do that,” Nicholas laughed a little, and Seiji knew that Nicholas was aware of Eugene’s strange style of affection first hand. The two of them were always goofing off.

“And now  _you’re_  the one acting like a child, forced to share his favorite toy.”

“Yeah. Sorry.” He was normal again. Somehow, blessedly, normal. The tension between them seemed almost gone. But Nicholas was still so far away.

“I would have you tell me in what regard you hold me,” Seiji said, refusing to let his voice waver or otherwise give away his jittery terror. “And afford me the same curtesy I did you.”

“You speak super formal when you’re nervous.”

“I—,” Seiji flushed. He hadn’t known. Nicholas seemed to notice things about him that he himself didn’t.

“I like it. It’s cute. Just like it’s kinda cute how you act like such a grown-up but really you’re—,”

“Nicholas.”

“I like you.”

“That is…most agreeable.” Seiji liked the soft laugh Nichols gave at this. He wouldn’t have asked for anything more, but Nicholas gave it anyway.

“I first started liking you on the bus, when you apologized for hurting me.”

“I don’t recall ever apologizing.”

“Maybe not in words, but it was implied. You felt bad. I could tell. I liked it, that you were concerned about me. Thought it was sweet how you checked my bruise, and lent me your hand.”

“If you expect me to tell you when or why I started liking you, I won’t. I don’t know.”

“That’s okay, I’m just glad you do.” A short pause. “I thought I might have been wrong…no, I mean, I knew that you liked me. It was that I worried your stubbornness would win and you’d never admit it.”

“If you were that worried, you could have said something. If you’d just told me,”  _or kissed me,_  “I would have been yours with no further discussion.”

“Fine, I guess your stubbornness and pride weren’t the only things jeopardizing this.” He was shifting closer to Seiji, a hand reaching out to brush through his hair. “So… _mine_ …is that what you are now?” One more of those searching looks that set his skin on fire. Seiji closed the distance between them even more.

“It occurs to me that that was an embarrassing thing to have said.”

“Don’t be nervous,” Nicholas laughed, closer still. “I liked it. I mean, I’d like it if you were. Mine. My…boyfriend?”

“I’d like that too.”

“I bet Eugene fell asleep on the couch on purpose. He’s a true friend.”

Seiji frowned, shoved his hands up Nicholas’s shirt and pressed them to his warm skin in retribution. Nicholas gasped in surprise.

“What was that for?” He asked.

“For talking about other boys when you shouldn’t even be thinking of anyone besides me.”

Nicholas laughed. “Who’s bad at sharing now?”

“Me,” Seiji challenged brashly, daring Nicholas to voice an objection. He didn’t.

“Well, your revenge backfired. I like your hands.” And Nicholas was wrapping his own arms around Seiji, pressing them together and trapping Seiji’s hands where they were, pressed against Nicholas’s stomach.

“Don’t lie, nobody likes cold hands up their shirt.”

“I do. Especially  _your_  cold hands.”

“You’re bizarre, truly.”

“I’m glad you snuck into my bed tonight,” Nicholas said and Seiji considered protesting the choice of words, the implications. But there would be no point. He  _had_  snuck into Nicholas’s bed and with every intention of  _this_  happening.

“I sleep well, when I do,” he said instead, “you’re warm and heavy, like—,” a yawn escaped him, “like a blanket. A really good blanket.”

“And you’re like a really good body pillow, one that makes little sleep sounds and has cold hands.”

“Is that what you look for in a boyfriend? Cold hands, nice to hug?” Seiji teased, already falling asleep. Nicholas’s hold had a way of doing that to him. Dragging him into deep and comfortable sleep that he never wanted to wake from.

“You’re one to talk. You just like me because I’m warm. Wait, shit, it would have been funnier if I’d said  _hot_  because of the double meaning. Pretend I said that.”

“I like you for other reasons, too.” But he was asleep before he got around to telling Nicholas about any of those other reasons. No matter. There’d be time later.


	8. Chapter 8

Nicholas had developed a habit of playing with Seiji’s hands. The colder they were when he started, the happier he was. He was an odd sort, to be sure. But Seiji had become used to his incessant touches, fond, even, of the way he’d press Seiji’s hands against his face, to his lips, or simply pull at his fingers, rub at his hands, or enclose them in his.

So when Nicholas unthinkingly brought one of Seiji’s hands to his face as they worked silently next to each other on Nicholas’s bed, it didn’t come as a surprise. But the gesture reminded him, as it always did, of the first—second?—time Nicholas had done it. Seiji considered for a moment, as he always did. But this time he decided that he wanted to know the answer to a question that had been weighing on him for this first month of their new relationship.

“Why didn’t you kiss me?”

“Huh?” Nicholas looked up from his homework with a little crease between his brows.

“That morning, after Cheshire…you almost kissed me?” He’d tried not to let it be a question, but it came out as one anyway. He was almost positive now that Nicholas  _had_  meant to kiss him, before…

“Harvard showed up.” Nicholas said, still not understanding. “Didn’t think kissing in front of our captain was the way to win you over, you know?”

“Obviously I know  _that._  But you could have kissed me, after he left. I’d have let you.”

“You’d have let me or you  _wanted_ me to?”

“Clearly, I wanted you to, or I wouldn’t be asking why you  _didn’t_  now, would I?”

“Oh,” Nicholas grinned at him, homework entirely forgotten as his math book clattered to the floor, followed shortly by his paper and pencil, unbalanced by the way he turned to Seiji. “Is that why you threw a fit? Because I didn’t kiss you?”

“More or less.” It was more nuanced than that, but Seiji didn’t care to get into it just now. “But you haven’t answered me.”

“I don’t know. The moment was kind of gone.” Seiji was unimpressed with the answer, and Nicholas knew it. “Alright, fine. You’re right, I could have kissed you. There  _was_  a moment. But everyone was waking up. Not just the guys, but, like,  _anyone_  could have come out of their rooms for breakfast any minute. I didn’t wanna be interrupted.”

“That’s so practical of you.”

“You sound surprised.”

“I am.”

“I’d have tried to kiss you later, if you hadn’t started acting like—,”

“A bitch?”

“Don’t swear, it doesn’t suit you,” Nicholas grinned, reaching to ruffle his hair. Seiji was not thrilled to have his hair ruined, and he glared to show it. “I’m sorry I called you a bitch. Probably wasn’t smart of me, calling the guy I like names.”

“No, but I never claimed to like you for your good choices.”

“You really thought you’d imagined it?”

“You didn’t say anything or try anything after that. I realize now that my behavior was off-putting, but I wasn’t aware of it at the time.”

“That’s hilarious and adorable,” Nicholas laughed, slipping Seiji’s hand from his cheek to his lips to kiss it cheerfully. “But I told you I liked you, that night. How’d you miss that?”

“You remember that? I thought it was spurred by drowsiness. I thought I might have dreamt it.” Seiji flushed. “And I wasn’t sure  _how_  you meant you liked me, even if I took your words at face value.”

“What? You thought I meant I just really liked sharing a bed with you in a  _platonic_  way? Just two guys being dudes? Bro-ing around? Let me snuggle you, but no homo, though?”

“I—oh, stop laughing. What do I know? I don’t even know  _what_ you are, it wasn’t out of the realm of possibilities that you were straight.”

“I’m not.”

“I gathered as much, thank you.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t kiss you.”

“That’s—I didn’t mean to say that I’m still upset over it. I only wondered the reason. You don’t need to be sorry.”

“I do though, because I could definitely have kissed you even though you were being difficult. I did  _know_  why you were acting out. If It’d just grabbed you and planted a big wet one on you—,”

“I’m asking you  _never_  to say that again, please.” Seiji said it with mild disgust, and he was almost positive Nicholas had only used that turn of phrase because he knew Seiji wouldn’t like it.

“It would’ve solved everything. But I was being mean. I wanted to make you tell me how you felt. I know I said it before, but I was seriously starting to worry that you wouldn’t and we’d lose our chance because of it.”

“Well, you won in the end. It won’t happen again, so I suggest you cherish the memory.”

“I do.” Nicholas brushed a hand against his cheek, looked at him with such wonder and delight it made his stomach turn. It was like Nicholas couldn’t believe this was real. Seiji leaned into him.

“You’ve still never tried again, you realize. To kiss me.”

“Neither have you,” Nicholas said. What a curious oversight. Seiji hadn’t even thought to try. He’d have to remedy that. The sliver of space between their lips closed, and Seiji couldn’t say who had breached the final distance, him or Nicholas. It didn’t matter, the resulting kiss was the same either way.

Unsure what to do with his hands, Seiji rested them at Nicholas’s waist, but when Nicholas pulled him closer, he found his arms wrapping around Nicholas’s back, which he liked much better. Nicholas seemed to know what he was doing, and Seiji let him take the lead. He didn’t think there was such a thing as  _losing_  when it came to kissing and saw no reason to fight against Nicholas’s lips, against his tongue, asking entrance into Seiji’s mouth. He gave it gladly and could taste the sugary fruit punch Nicholas had been drinking earlier. Could taste the innate flavor of  _Nicholas_  too.

Nicholas’s mouth, like everything else about him, was warm and welcoming and Seiji liked kissing it very much. Liked also how close they were, how they held each other as tightly as they ever had during the three nights they’d cramped together in one bed. He hadn’t known it was allowed outside that context. Hadn’t thought to try it—grab Nicholas and hug him close. He made up for lost time now, not allowing Nicholas to get far at all, even when they were both breathless and flushed. When this happened and the kissing had come to a stop, he only tucked his head against Nicholas’s chest and listened, eyes closed, to the thrumming of his heart.

“You’re gonna have to let go eventually,” Nicholas said, after a reasonably—or, perhaps, unreasonably—long time. But he was threading his fingers through Seiji’s hair, stroking and pulling lightly and it was doing nothing to convince Seiji that  _letting go_  was necessary at all. Mussed hair was definitely worth this, he decided.

“No, I don’t think I will,” Seiji said and he felt Nicholas’s laugh before he heard it.

“Alright, guess that’ll teach me.” It was a luxury Seiji probably shouldn’t allow himself, to lounge in Nicholas’s arms when he had responsibilities he could be seeing to. But he was always being responsible, practical, playing at being grow up. He didn’t need to be so with Nicholas. So he indulged himself, let a half-sleep settle sweetly over him, dimming reality to a faraway concept.

Seiji’s hand wandered, eventually, to trail down Nicholas’s arm, to find his hand and hold it. Nicholas took it and raised it— _again—_  to his lips for a kiss so absently that it was telling of just how often he did this.

“I like your hands,” he murmured, brushing Seiji’s knuckles against his cheek.

“I know,” Seiji said, adjusting to look up at Nicholas without leaving his now-steady heartbeat. “You’re not exactly subtle about it.”

“I don’t normally care so much about hands. But I really like yours.”

“Hm.” What was there to say to that, really?

“They’re like you, beautiful and graceful but capable of some real damage with an épée. Cold, but surprisingly gentle. And really great to hold.”

Seiji considered this for a moment, decided he liked it. He finally pulled away from Nicholas’s chest, only to take his face in his hands and kiss him, slow and deliberate, and soft enough so as not to rub his lips any rawer than they already were. Nicholas leaned into the kiss, made a pleased sound similar to a sigh. It filled Seiji with a peculiar warmth to know that he could have this any time he wanted.

But reality pushed in on them soon enough and Seiji pulled away from Nicholas in earnest, standing and gathering up their scattered textbooks, papers, and pencils under Nicholas’s watchful eyes. He dropped Nicholas’s things on the bed with a pointed look, setting his own journal on the desk.

“Is that chapstick?” Nicholas asked when Seiji produced a small tube from his pocket.

“Yes. Would you like some?”

“Only secondhand, if you know what I’m saying.”

“That would be counterproductive,” Seiji said, applying the balm, neat and efficient. “The entire reason my lips feel chapped is because of such things.”

“What could it hurt?”

“My  _lips,_  that’s what.”

“You’re something else— _mmmph!”_  Nicholas’s muffed sound of surprise was due to Seiji smearing a finger across his lips. “What in the fuck—hey, tastes like mint.”

“There,” Seiji said with smug amusement. “Secondhand chapstick.”

“I’m gonna fall in love with you, if you’re not careful.”

“What a bizarre thing to start falling for me over,” Seiji commented and Nicholas laughed. “And I have no intentions of being  _careful._  In case you were wondering.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like usually I have more things to say? Oh i know what I'll say--can you tell how much I love first kisses? You'll notice I never skip over them, even if it would make perfect sense to do a time skip and do kisses later, OR end when they get together and leave out the kissing all together. But nah. First kisses are special (fight me I'm a romantic) and I always gotta address them no matter how many fics I've written


	9. Chapter 9

Seiji was typically a very organized person. And he wasn’t one to forget anything. His mind, much like his person and his spaces, was impeccably well organized and taken care of. Which is why it surprised him so much to find a crumpled hoodie in the bottom of his wardrobe. It took him much too long to make sense of it, to place it in his memory.

_Tearing the hoodie off and shoving it into his bag. Coming back to the dorms, frustrated and disappointed, unwilling to give it back to its owner because of petty spite. Bunching it up small and forcing it into the deepest corner he could find._

He was struck then, holding the slightly wrinkled jacket, by his foolishness at that time. It was far enough in the past for him to manage a small huff of laughter over his antics. It was a wonder he hadn’t driven Nicholas away completely. But he hadn’t. For that fact, he smiled, absently bringing the garment to his face. It still smelled of Nicholas, despite almost two months at the bottom of his wardrobe. He’d have to return it to Nicholas, he knew it was his favorite. He wondered why Nicholas had never asked after it. Perhaps he feared Seiji had burned it. Or maybe he’d forgotten that Seiji had borrowed it—or, stolen it, really, though unwittingly so. He likely thought he’d lost it, disaster that he was.

There wasn’t really a reason for what he did next. He simply felt the urge to pull the sweater over his head and snuggle into it. So he did. Seiji wasn’t a fan of hoodies in general. They didn’t cut a particularly flattering figure, and, much worse, they habitually ruined his hair. He didn’t often wear his own school hoodie. But there was something about wearing  _Nicholas’s_ school hoodie that made it so much better. Ignoring the stale gummy bear in the pocket, the hoodie was, somehow, perfect. And so, Seiji didn’t take it off again but elected to stay in its warmth while he caught up on some reading.

Nicholas exploded into the room sometime later, and Seiji looked up with only mild interest. Nicholas was always barging into the room as loudly as possible, no matter the time. Seiji needed to know nothing more than that he was back, which was proven already by the door banging open. He spared little time to see more than that before returning to his book. He was at a good part, and he had limited time to read these days. But when he noticed Nicholas’s continued presence in the doorway and the suspicious lack of noise from Nicholas’s usual traipsing, he looked up again. Nicholas was openly gawking at him. Seiji was about to ask if there was a problem, but Nicholas beat him to it.

“That’s…that’s mine, isn’t it?”

“Oh,” he looked down, found again the navy blue of Nicholas’s jacket. “Yeah, I accidentally stole it.” Nicholas didn’t respond, just stared intently at him. Seiji frowned. He was planning on giving it back. He didn’t see what the big deal was. Sighing, he marked his place in his book and stood. “Fine, if you’re going to be like that about it, I’ll give it back, then.” He made to tug it off, but he didn’t get far before Nicholas was colliding into him.

Before he had a proper grasp on what was happening, Nicholas had a hand in his hair, an arm around his back, and his mouth pressing insistently against his. His weight carried them back clumsily until Seiji hit the wall with a small gasp, not having expected this particular turn of events. But he wasn’t displeased with it. This sort of thing was almost natural now, and his arms lifted easily to hold Nicholas.

“What’s this about?” Seiji asked, a laugh on his lips as Nicholas moved on to kiss his neck. Nicholas didn’t answer at first, just made a humming noise into Seiji’s skin.

“You’re wearing my hoodie.”

“I was  _going_  to give it back.”

“Dumbass, I  _like_  it.” Nicholas said it like it ought to be obvious.

“I hadn’t thought…” Seiji started, but shook his head and brought Nicholas back up to kiss him. He didn’t understand the way Nicholas’s mind worked. Never had, never would. It was something he’d accepted even before any thought of affection had surfaced. Seiji twined fingers into Nicholas’s hair, held him tight and kissed him hard. He never really had any idea what he was doing and he was sure Nicholas knew it, but he didn’t seem to mind, really. Seiji suspected he might like it. It had taken some time—over a month—for Seiji to get comfortable with the physicality that came with dating. Even the casual ways Nicholas would initiate contact had been alien to him, the innocent hand-holding and frequent clinging. The kissing, too, though good from the start, had, at times, been awkward and hesitant. Not anymore.

Seiji knew what he wanted, what he liked. He liked Nicholas pressing in against him, liked the sounds he made when kissing him, liked the constant movement of Nicholas—his hands never stayed one place for very long, and he was constantly readjusting his hold, the tilt of his head, even rearranging Seiji’s position. Because of this, it didn’t surprise him when a hand made it down to his thigh, but he didn’t understand why Nicholas was tugging persistently at it. There wasn’t really anywhere Seiji’s leg could go, except for  _up_  and why would he— _oh._  If Seiji thought about it, he’d have wondered about the mechanics of such a thing. He made a conscious decision to  _not_  think instead, to just act on instinct. He crooked the leg in question around Nicholas’s waist. This seemed to satisfy Nicholas, but only for a moment.

Nicholas’s hands grappled for sounder purchase on Seiji’s thighs and before he could register what was happening, Seiji was suddenly being  _hoisted_  off the ground. He broke from Nicholas’s mouth with a gasp of alarm, relocating his arms instinctually to cling to Nicholas so as not to fall. Seiji was not light, nor easy to pick up. He had never imagined Nicholas would try it, and now he half expected to be dropped. But Nicholas was far from weak and showed no difficulty in holding him up. Still, Seiji worried they’d topple over, even as Nicholas tried to coax him back into a kiss.

“Put me down,” he ordered.

“Don’t wanna,” Nicholas seemed to see that Seiji wasn’t about to kiss him just now and, not to be deterred, had easily gone back to kissing elsewhere on Seiji’s face instead, readjusting his grip and hauling Seiji even higher up his body.

“I’m  _heavy._ ”

“Not that heavy.”

“Heavy enough that you can’t keep this up for long.”

“I’m only holding you against the wall,” Nicholas shrugged, flashing Seiji a carefree smiling between kisses. “I can manage. But it’d be easier if you’d relax a little.”

“I can’t believe the nerve of you,” Seiji spluttered. “Telling me to  _relax_  when my feet aren’t on the ground where they  _should_  be.”

“Hey, wrap your other leg around me,” Nicholas completely disregarded Seiji’s objections. Seiji decided this wasn’t a battle worth fighting. He did as Nicholas suggested and maneuvered himself into a more comfortable position. He found himself towering over Nicholas, situated as he was with legs crossed tightly around Nicholas’s midriff. He was taller than Nicholas, but not by much. He rather liked this new height, given to him though it was through Nicholas’s hold on him. Nicholas saw something in his face that gave it away and he smirked. “Finally where you belong: high above a brute like me, huh?”

“As a matter of fact,” Seiji said, looking down at Nicholas with every ounce of superiority he could conjure up when being pressed into a wall, “yes.” Nicholas laughed and Seiji grabbed his cheeks and leaned down to kiss him, still laughing. He could practically taste the laugh. He gave up on caution and allowed himself to relax, to trust that Nicholas (probably) wouldn’t drop him. And, if they ended up on the floor, so be it.

They did not, as it turned out, end up on the floor. Nicholas peeled them away from the wall and before Seiji had time to prepare for the inevitable crash to the floor, they were falling—or being flung—onto the bed. He wasn’t rightly sure  _which_ bed—he was so caught up in Nicholas. The mattress was soft and seemed especially so after his time against the wall, though it gave a terrible creak at their abrupt weight landing heavily on it all at once.

“You’re heavy,” Seiji breathed as Nicholas’s weight fell on him, pressed him deep into the mattress.

“You like it,” Nicholas said, and Seiji couldn’t argue with that. It was a well-established fact that Nicholas’s qualities relating to being a pleasantly weighted blanket were some of Seiji’s favorites. So he just brought Nicholas further down onto him and continued their kiss, interrupted as it had been by Nicholas’s tomfoolery.

***

Seiji didn’t return Nicholas’s jacket promptly. As he wasn’t asked for it when they’d finally pulled apart from each other earlier in the evening, Seiji hadn’t offered it. He would. In the morning. It was Nicholas’s favorite, and it would be inconsiderate of him to steal it in earnest. For any longer than he already had, in any case. But tonight, he wanted it.

They’d been on Nicholas’s bed, Seiji had found when Nicholas had rolled off of him. The room had fallen dark by then, and Seiji had tiredly made his way to his own bed, not bothering to change out of his sweats. Highly irregular of him, but he hadn’t wanted to take the time or shed Nicholas’s jacket. So he’d climbed over Nicholas carefully, but had been caught by the hand as he tried to walk across the room. Nicholas had kissed the captured hand then let it fall away with a sort of reluctance Seiji felt too.

Now, laying in his bed, he was finding it difficult to make himself comfortable. He readjusted tirelessly, which was entirely unlike him. But he couldn’t sleep. Nicholas’s dumb lamp was on, but he’d adjusted to that inconvenience early on in the year. And the room was dead silent, so putting on his headphones wouldn’t help at all. He wasn’t usually a restless sleeper. He found himself getting irritated after twenty minutes of trying and failing to fall asleep. Seiji considered himself a patient person, but he appeared to have no patience for this.

Seiji could hear Nicholas, kicking around as he always did on the other bed in the room. The blankets were rustling and he could hear the mattress protest to whatever it was Nicholas was doing. Was he having trouble sleeping too? Or was he always awake for so long after Seiji had fallen into sleep? The floor creaked, feet padded thickly against the floor. Seiji couldn’t stop his eyes from darting to the figure emerging from behind the curtain. Nicholas, cast in shadows and with a faint blue hue from the effect of the lamplight shining through the duck curtain.

_Why’s he taking a pillow to go to the bathroom?_

Seiji wasn’t left to wonder for long because Nicholas didn’t go to the bathroom at all, turning before he reached the door. Seiji found himself making room for Nicholas even before he stood by his bed and told him to  _scooch over a bit._  This bed wasn’t nearly so big as any of those that Seiji and Nicholas had previously shared, but it hardly felt any different. All the other times, their limbs had locked together and their bodies had found each other, held close and securely together in roughly the same amount of space provided by Seiji’s mattress.

“I’ll even let you have your side of the bed,” Nicholas said, arms already comfortably around Seiji.

“It’s my bed,” Seiji said, “they’re both my sides. Technically.”

“Technically, you’re a pain in the ass.”

“You’ll ruin me for sleeping alone,” Seiji told him, pulling closer against him, already feeling closer to sleep now than he’d been at any point in the last half hour.

“Guess I’ll have to take responsibility, then.”

“Yes,” Seiji agreed, eyes drifting closed. “I suppose you will.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well friends, it's been fun (as it always is). Thank you so so so much for coming on this snuggle train with me and, of course, for all the wonderfully nice comments. Seriously, you guys spoil me to death and I love you very much 💜💜💜


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